He Saved Her Child, Abandoned Ours novel · Chapter 22 of 24

Chapter 22: Sunday Soup

Rhiannon's POV

"Not tonight," I had said, sitting on the end of his iron bed. "Ask me on a day when there's soup on."

So on Sunday there was soup.

Bridie made enough for a lifeboat crew, in the big blue pot, with fish she had bought off a man on the quay and refused to name.

She stood at the stove in an apron that said KISS THE COOK, which Tilly had given her, and which she had never once been asked to explain.

Rafe's mother arrived at noon with Posy by the hand.

Cressida's solicitor had written on Friday to say that Sundays at the cottage were agreed, with a grandmother present, until the welfare report came back.

There had been no letter from Cressida herself.

"Hello, Auntie Rhiannon," said Posy at the door, holding up a drawing.

"Hello, Posy."

"It's the kettle."

It was a very large kettle with a very surprised face, and steam coming out of the top in bright blue loops.

"It looks exactly like ours," I said.

"Does it scream?"

"It does."

"I want to hear it."

"You'll hear it in about a minute," said Bridie from the stove, "and I'd cover your ears."

Tilly appeared at the top of the stairs in her dinosaur pyjamas.

She stood there for a moment looking down at her half-sister.

Posy looked back up.

Nobody at the table said a word.

"You can have the top bunk," Tilly said.

"I don't have a bunk."

"I know. But if you did."

"Okay," said Posy, satisfied. "Can I see your arm?"

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